And this same state we won't describe: we would

Perhaps from hearsay, or from recollection:

But getting nigh grim Dante's "obscure wood,"[539]That horrid equinox, that hateful section

Of human years—that half-way house—that rude

Hut, whence wise travellers drive with circumspection[JZ]Life's sad post-horses o'er the dreary frontier

Of Age, and looking back to Youth, give one tear;—